


you're driving me wild

by transjackianto



Series: Broken (Torchwood) Codas [3]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Audio 011: Broken (Torchwood), M/M, Post-Audio 011: Broken, Pre-Episode: S01E08 They Keep Killing Suzie, Sparring, Spoilers for Audio 011: Broken
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:55:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28033497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transjackianto/pseuds/transjackianto
Summary: It's been a few days since Jack and Ianto first slept together.Just this once, was what they said.Ianto hasn't been sleeping well and Jack offers to wear him out - by brushing up on Ianto's sparring skills.(Every fandom has a sexual-tension filled sparring fic. These two - it's a little more complicated.)
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Series: Broken (Torchwood) Codas [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1698613
Comments: 19
Kudos: 50





	you're driving me wild

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know, another broken fic, really, Kai? Yes, another broken fic.
> 
> This fic can follow on from my other two.
> 
> For anyone who hasn't listened to Broken: the last scene is set before TKKS and Ianto kisses Jack because he wants to 'feel something', and Jack tells him that 'relationships at work aren't a good idea', so they agree to have one night together.
> 
> But this is Jack and Ianto, we know that they don't just have one night.
> 
> This came about from a thought of, how did they go from 'just this once' to Ianto propositioning Jack at the end of TKKS.
> 
> Title from the song 'Wild' by Troye Sivan.

Ianto scowls as he looks out across the length of the Hub from where he sits on the couch underneath the ‘Torchwood’ sign. Sipping slowly at his coffee, he tries to chase away the cobwebs in his brain. He is just  _ so tired _ all the time, but his insomnia keeps him awake at night, that by the time he comes back into work the next morning, he’s barely gotten a few hours of sleep.

He rests his forehead on his free hand. His sleep schedule is far from normal or healthy, and he’s gone through insomnia before, but this seems worse than usual. It feels like his eyes are itching.

It’s been a few days since the whole Ferret incident. It’s been a few days since he slept with his boss. He still can’t believe he slept with Jack,  _ his boss. _ . What the hell was he thinking?

“You look terrible,” a familiar voice says from his left, sounding just as amused and cocky as it always does.

Ianto whips his head around to see the man who is plaguing his thoughts standing in the doorway of his office. Jack is leaning against the doorframe, his hands tucked into his trouser pockets and his legs crossed. Even without the coat, he still looks gorgeous.  _ Asshole. _

“Thanks,” Ianto says sarcastically, rolling his eyes away from Jack to stare into his mug again.

There’s a beat. “Trouble sleeping?” The voice definitely sounds closer now.

Ianto shrugs.

A hand moves below his chin and tilts his head up and around. Ianto’s eyes catch on the older man’s. He seems concerned, his eyes narrowed.

“I’m fine,” Ianto says, his face blank.

Jack sighs and brings his hands back down to his side before holding them up in surrender.

“See you later, sir,” Ianto says mildly, before getting up from the sofa and walking off towards his archives.

\-----

It’s the afternoon, and Ianto still isn’t feeling much better. He is still exhausted, but at this point, he feels like plugging an IV into his arm and pumping caffeine directly into his veins. Ianto walks into the main area of the Hub to find the rest of the team catching up on old projects. It’s been a slow day with the Rift.

He knocks on Jack’s office door and asks him if he would like another drink.

Jack replies in the affirmative but tells him not to bother with getting Owen one as he has gone for a run.

“A run?” Ianto questions, his face baffled.

Jack lets the paperwork flop back onto the desk from where he’s been holding it up to read, a smile on his face. “Apparently, he likes to go jogging on his days off to keep in shape. God knows we eat a lot of crap around here.”

Ianto mumbles his agreement.

Jack’s face turns contemplative as he regards Ianto’s face. Under his scrutiny, Ianto shifts awkwardly.

“What?” he eventually snaps, because Jack looking at him like that is unnerving and makes him feel microscopic.

“Owen going for a run actually got me thinking.”

“I can’t imagine you going for a run, sir.” Ianto tries to picture in his mind, but all he is getting flashes of is the older man looking sweaty and out of breath.  _ Great _ , now he is thinking of the other night when Jack was sweaty and out of breath  _ in his bed _ . He hopes to God that he isn’t blushing but Jack is definitely giving him a look like he knows where Ianto’s thoughts have gone.  _ Get your mind out of the gutter, Jones _ .

“And I thought maybe we could apply that idea elsewhere,” Jack continues, ignoring Ianto’s interruption. “Physical activity is strenuous and is liable to make someone’s body more amenable to sleep, even if your mind isn’t cooperating.”

“And?”

“Well, I was hoping we could work on your hand-to-hand combat,” he says lightly, and Ianto internally groans. The thought of getting hot and heavy up in Jack’s space sounds like torture. Especially now he knows what it feels like to be above and below that body. They had agreed to only one night together, but this feels like it will certainly try his patience. “I know we did some sparring together before the Beacons, but you can never be too careful. You never know when you might lose a weapon in the field.”

Ianto sighs. “Is this a plan to wear me out so I can sleep?”

A slight smirk pulls at the corner of Jack’s mouth. “I’ll go easy on you.”

Ianto raised an eyebrow. “Okay, fine.”

\-----

The gun range isn’t the only tactical training area that the Hub has. It actually has a gym area too. For the most part, the gym has remained unchanged since Ianto joined. It has basic gym equipment of dumbbells, barbells, cross trainers, etc. It is a decent-sized room with different areas dedicated to different forms of exercise, and right in the middle of the room, is padded-springy flooring that is perfect for sparring on. Torchwood is supposed to be an organisation that has first contact with alien forces. The team can’t just be good with using weapons; they need to be in shape and experts at hand-to-hand combat.

Jack chooses that moment to walk in front of him, shucking his t-shirt as he goes, leaving Jack in just a pair of tight tracksuit bottoms. Jack’s hair messes up a little but falls back into its usual disarray, and Ianto doesn’t miss the smirk that worms its way onto Jack’s face as he watches Ianto watch him.

Ianto is in his own work-out gear of a similar outfit. “So, er, if you’re shirtless… I guess that means I’ll keep my own on?” he tries to joke, but his brain is already on its way to fizzling out. Seeing all of Jack’s tanned beautiful skin is giving him flashbacks to the other night.

Jack shrugs. “I think your shirt is going to get in the way.”

Ianto swallows. “Of the sparring, right?”

Jack’s gaze is piercing. “Of course,” he says. “What else would I be talking about?”

Ianto tries not to swallow too loudly.

“Nothing,” he says, gritting his teeth and looking down. He pulls off his t-shirt as well, his cheeks warm.

Ianto tries not to think about it so much anymore, the way Jack had always followed his movements across the Hub with his gaze. It had always felt scorching and like he was trying to get a glimpse underneath his suit. He tries not to think of what’s hiding underneath the last few items of Jack’s clothing.

They start circling each other slowly, their feet whispering across the black mats.

“We never actually agreed,” Jack says, tone casual enough that they may as well be talking about the weather, but eyes dark with intent. “Just how easy you’d like me to go on you.”

Ianto scoffs, the sound coming out way too harsh to be anything other than protesting too much. He and Jack continue to circle around each other, and Ianto has to remind his saliva glands to keep working because his mouth is bone-dry. He still remembers the first time he saw Jack shirtless the other day and how he mapped out that long beautiful torso. This isn’t helping him get over his attraction of Jack, at all.

He hasn’t built up an immunity to Jack’s bare chest, but he’s sure he will stop feeling personally victimised by Jack’s nipples one day. He hopes. ( _ Lies. _ )

Ianto licks his lips, paving the way for the smirk he lets slide onto his face. If Jack wants to play, Ianto will play.

“Don’t hold back on my account,” Ianto drawls, bending his knees a little. “You’re supposed to be wearing me out, remember?”

“Only if you’re sure,” Jack says, like he’s doing Ianto a favour, coming at him fast. Ianto pivots out of the way.

“Positive.” As soon as the challenge is off his tongue, the tension in the room goes up another notch. Ianto wouldn’t be surprised if the hairs on his arms were standing at attention.

Their circling slows, turning predatory.

“So… are we gonna dance around all day or-” Jack starts but is interrupted by Ianto coming at him, quick enough that Jack barely manages to get a forearm up in time.

Ianto prefers punches to kicks, but Jack isn’t a stranger to either. Jack goes hard on the offense at first, moving the two of them across the mats as Ianto blocks shot after shot. Jack gets a couple punches in that he always pulls at the last minute, just enough force to keep Ianto on his toes.

The thought crosses Ianto’s mind, just how in tune their bodies have to be for this. To keep that sense of urgency between them and yet at the same time know that they’re pulling every punch, being watchful of each other’s movements in a way that, strangely enough, feels like they’re mutually taking care of each other. They fall into step easily now, whether it’s reminding the other to eat, sleep, or pulling punches.

“You know,” Jack says as he continues to run Ianto off the mats. His chest is heaving, but his voice is annoyingly steady. “If you’d like to learn better coordination, apparently dancing helps.”

Ianto huffs a laugh, ducking a punch and using the window of opportunity to get on the offense, swinging big and slow just to get Jack off-balance. When Jack steps back, stumbling slightly, Ianto’s on him, bringing them back in the opposite direction.

“I don’t think I really need the dance lessons,” Ianto says in between grunts. “You, on the other hand-” Jack lands a hit on his side, and Ianto exhales sharply. Jack doesn’t let up, grabbing his wrist and slipping behind him, trapping his hands behind his back. He leans in, breath ghosting along the shell of Ianto’s ear. His torso is lined up along Ianto’s back, a solid mass of heat behind him.

“What?” Jack asks quietly, lips so close to Ianto’s ear that Ianto gives an involuntary shiver. Jack’s hands around his wrists tighten, and he shifts against Ianto’s back, moving his chin so that it’s nudging where Ianto’s neck meets his shoulder. “Go on, Ianto. Finish the sentence.”

Ianto turns his head slightly, feeling the atmosphere sizzling between them. The urge to thrust back and grind against Jack is a heady thought, making his head swim.

“Your coordination isn’t that great,” he gasps out, trying to think of anything non-sexual to get his mind out of the gutter.

He can’t see it, but he can feel Jack’s devilish smirk as he lets him go, trailing his fingers briefly over the small of Ianto’s back.

“Feeling sleepy yet?” Jack asks, circling around him once more.

“Not exactly.”  _ Yes. No. _ There’s a lot going on in Ianto’s brain at the moment, and Ianto’s not really thinking about sleeping any time soon.

“Well, then, I guess we’ll have to keep going,” Jack says, smirk curling the corners of his mouth.

Ianto tries not to sound breathless when he says, “Bring it, Captain.”

They go at it again, punching and jabbing and ducking and blocking, and Jack’s hands are all over him, his elbows, his stomach, his chest, his thighs. His hands are so  _ big _ , Ianto doesn’t know what to do when that firm grip curls its way around his bicep.

The sweat starts to gather, and they’re moving so in sync now, Ianto can feel it in the movements of their bodies. It collects at the base of his spine, in the sunken-in skin above Jack’s collarbones. Ianto bets anything that the ends of his own hair are curling at the base of his neck and around his ears, and Jack’s own hair is coming out of its product, and Ianto longs to get his hands back into it.

The longer they go, the thicker the atmosphere becomes. Ianto feels like he’s wading through a high-gravity planet, adrenaline spiking through his system like lightning as Jack draws closer. His breathing is becoming heavy now, both from exertion and his thoughts. Ianto notes that Jack takes one step slightly too far to the side and takes his chance, sweeping Jack’s feet out from under him and pinning him to the mat, their torsos now pressed flush together. They breathe harshly, Ianto’s hands flat on the mat on either side of Jack’s head as he stares down at him. He feels his lips part slightly, his tongue darting out to lick them without a thought. Jack’s eyes follow the movement.

Ianto is getting flashbacks to the last time he and Jack were like this. Their third meeting. The warehouse. That time he wasn’t allowed to close the gap between them either. Different reasons this time, of course. But they had said only once.  _ Only once. _ They’ve had their one night together. No matter how much Ianto wants to lean down and bring their lips together, he knows he can’t.

“You can tap out any time,” Ianto offers weakly, the heat in the bottom of his abdomen begging him to angle their pelvises in the correct way and grind off against each other. He swallows.

Jack’s pupils are wider than normal, his mouth open, pink, and inviting. He watches Ianto with dark eyes, then thrusts his hips upwards, grinding into Ianto’s, and Ianto barely has time to think,  _ holy fuck _ , before he realises he’s being countered and this time it’s Jack slamming him into the mat, on top of him so fast that Ianto is dizzy.

Jack’s mouth is tantalisingly close to his when he murmurs, “And I can say the same to you, of course.” The smirk on his face grows. “Are you tired yet?”

“I…” Ianto momentarily loses all ability to speak as he realises that the length of heat in the crease of his thigh is Jack’s cock, radiating warmth that makes Ianto’s mouth water. He can feel his brain slowly deteriorating. The memories of the other night echoing in his head. That wonderful evening and how well Jack fits against him. That tightness in his abdomen. Aching for just another night with Jack.

Overcome, he shifts under Jack, seeking friction. He can feel the shape of Jack’s cock run along the line of skin just above his sweats, and he exhales hard, biting back a moan that wants to be ripped from him. His sweaty hands grapple for purchase on the rough mats beneath him, mostly to stop himself from latching onto Jack’s sweaty skin. He tries not to think how easy it would be to wrap his legs around Jack’s waist when they’re in a position like this, lining up their cocks, letting Jack thrust against him. Even with the layers of clothing between them right now, Ianto’s willing to bet it wouldn’t take more than a couple strong thrusts for Jack to finish him off, Jack’s hands in his hair and tongue curling possessively against his own.

“Ianto,” Jack says quietly, his voice catching at the end. It does little to hide Jack’s rapid breathing, the muscles in his arms and stomach jumping with the effort of holding himself back - Ianto assumes - as the thrill of that thought shoots up his spine.

“Just-” Ianto blinks rapidly, knowing if he looks Jack in the eye, he’s going to lose it. His hands curl into fists against the mat, and he grits his teeth, trying to remind himself that they had had their one night together, that they wouldn’t do this again. His whole body feels like it’s on fire.

“Ianto,” Jack grounds out again, and this time, Ianto doesn’t even think, just follows the order in Jack’s tone and meets his gaze, the blue of his eyes just a thin sliver around his pupils.

As soon as he does, he knows he’s going to crumble. Not that he wasn’t already, but this is definitely it.

Greedily, he unclenches his fists and curls one hand around Jack’s waist, the skin searing his palm. Jack pushes forward, seemingly by instinct, and pleasure shoots through him, lighting him up from the inside out. Jack moves one hand to lay across the wrist Ianto still has against the mat, securing him in place. Three of his absurdly long fingers slip up along his palm, and without thinking about it, Ianto curls his own fingers around them. Jack runs his thumb along the ridge of Ianto’s curled knuckles, a small, reverent gesture that somehow manages to stand out despite the current, overwhelming haze of arousal coursing through him.

He doesn’t have the coherence to say it right now, but he’s begging Jack with his eyes, begging for his hot mouth to capture his own. Really, they haven’t even done anything. He knows they shouldn’t be doing this, but he’s so desperate to feel Jack against him once more, and Jack is staring at his mouth, and Ianto’s so focused on that that he doesn’t notice that Jack’s free hand has come to rest just under his jaw until it's already there, his thumb pressing to the centre of Ianto’s lips. He watches as Jack focuses like the universe has narrowed to contain only the two of them as he drags his thumb down, the tip just catching on the slick inside of Ianto’s bottom lip.

Ianto swallows hard, but he can’t take it anymore. He needs  _ something _ inside him, and barely has to move his head up to catch the tip of Jack’s thumb between his lips. Jack’s breath catches. Ianto flicks his tongue against skin, inviting more of Jack in. His grip on Ianto’s other hand tightens, and he slides his thumb forward, Ianto curling his tongue around as much of it as he can. He thought he was salivating before, but feeling Jack inside him again, even if it’s just a thumb in his mouth, is enough to make his eyes squeeze shut.

Jack shifts, gently guiding Ianto’s legs apart so he can lay more fully against Ianto, and at the shift, Ianto feels their cocks once again brush close together. He groans around Jack’s thumb, his grip on Jack’s waist tightening, and in response, Jack gives another experimental thrust of his hips. This time, Ianto can’t hold back, and the groan that escapes him is guttural and needy, a sloppy thing that’s boiling up and over whether it has his permission or not. He feels like he’s getting fucked into a mattress and yet they both still have clothing on their lower half and  _ yet _ he’s probably going to end up coming like this, on the floor, on his back, dirty as sin and practically grovelling for anything else Jack wants to give him.

His hand slides down from Jack’s waist to grab his arse. Jack bucks forward at that, pulling his thumb from Ianto’s mouth where a strand of saliva connects the two. Ianto barely has time to register if he’s fucked up when he feels the tips of Jack’s index and middle fingers sliding past his lips, and he eagerly takes the extra girth and length, Jack’s slick thumb now pressing to the corner of Ianto’s mouth.

Jack picks up the pace on top of him, timing the swivel of his hips to the thrusts of his fingers into Ianto’s mouth. Everywhere he’s got a hand, Ianto holds on. With the angle he’s at, it’s hard to contribute to the rhythm Jack has, so he doubles down on the finger-sucking, putting his tongue to work and trying to see past the stars so he can watch Jack come apart on top of him.

Not that he’s faring much better. He’s trying to moan Jack’s name around his fingers, his cock throbbing every time Jack rubs against it. It’s another imperfect angle, but Ianto certainly isn’t going to stop things so they can fuss around. He’s long past caring about the respectable orgasm he’s definitely not going to get today, doesn’t even care if he ruins his underwear. He’s going to lose it right here, and he doesn’t care. Judging by the way the tension is building in his abdomen, this is going to be the kind of orgasm you don’t just get up and walk away from.

Jack properly threads their fingers together, and Ianto’s about to say something about moving somewhere comfier.

And then-

Tosh calls Jack’s name. Clear as a bell.

Reality comes crashing back down. Ianto feels his fight or flight instinct kick in, and he definitely isn’t in any condition to fight at the moment.

Jack, following his lead, shimmies backwards while Ianto swears under his breath and trips over his own feet as he stands up, willing his face to cool down.

“Jack!” Tosh calls again, her voice echoing down the hallway. “Ianto!”

Jack is still sitting there looking like he doesn’t know quite what to do, and Ianto is hobbling around trying to find their discarded t-shirts and trying not to notice the damp spot in his underwear.

In a voice that sounds like it belongs to someone who just yanked their hand out of the biscuit tin, Ianto shouts back, “In here!”

There’s the sound of footsteps, and Ianto still can’t find their t-shirts, and there’s the sound of the door opening, and Ianto  _ still _ can’t find their t-shirts, and-

“Er, hi,” Tosh says from the doorway, a little unsure.

“Um-” Ianto, still very shirtless and still very awkward, turns around to face Tosh, and from the corner of his eye, Ianto notices that Jack must have moved to sit on the nearest weightlifting bench when he wasn’t looking. “Hi.”

Tosh still manages to look almost as uncomfortable as Ianto.

“Did I… uh… interrupt?”

Ianto shakes his head, probably overdoing it.

“Nope. Ianto was just. Helping me…” Ianto watches as Jack desperately casts his gaze around, searching for an excuse. Jack looks behind him to see what he’s sitting on and blurts out, “Pump-” ( _ oh God, don’t say pump _ ) “-iron.”

They all turn to look, and definitely realise at the same time that the current weight on the bar is about twice the weight Jack could actually lift.

Ianto clears his throat. “I’m a good spotter.”

“Yes,” Jack says mildly, trying to keep his face straight. “He’s good at doing that.”

Ianto clears his throat again, trying to keep his voice contained to a normal volume and speed. “What did you need, Tosh?”

“I just… needed some help with research from you, Ianto. I guessed Jack might know where you were as you didn’t seem to be in the archives. Uh...” She shakes her head, backing away towards the door. “Doesn’t matter. It’s fine. I’ll leave you two to-”

“No!” Ianto says, failing in his efforts and speaking way too loudly and quickly. “I mean, sure, let me just-” He starts speed walking towards the door. “I just gotta- shower- weightlifting! From the weightlifting. Shower. Um.”  _ Fuck _ , he can’t even look Jack in the face. This is bad; this is why Jack said relationships at work were never a good idea- Tosh almost got scarred-

He doesn’t finish his sentence. He runs to the communal showers, tail tucked between his legs. The plan is to turn the shower onto the coldest setting, but while he’s retrieving a towel from his locker, he finds himself betrayed by his own arousal once more, which obviously still has Jack on its mind despite the incredible humiliation he just suffered.

He keeps the water hot, soaping himself up before taking his cock in hand with a sigh. He presses his forehead to the wall and tries not to think as he gets himself off, not nearly as enthusiastic as he was a mere ten minutes ago.

It’s better this way, he tries to tell himself. No, they can’t exactly play it off like it was nothing; that’s already been established, but if there’s anything Ianto Jones is good at, it’s avoidance. Because a boss who he almost banged again isn’t exactly going anywhere. But, it’s a big place of work. He can hide out in his archives or the tourist office. He definitely can.

Jack and Ianto can’t be  _ Jack and Ianto _ for… well… lots of reasons. They agreed they would only have one night. Relationships at work aren’t a good idea. They have only just become close again. Ianto doesn't want to lose Jack as a friend. Not again.

As he reasons with himself, Ianto is not entirely sure if he’ll be following his logic.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Thanks as always to princessoftheworlds for beta'ing this for me :)


End file.
